Teine
by Lena Polaris
Summary: He's loved his dragons all his life, and a woman that reminds him of their power. She has returned again. Now the question is whether he can take a step in the right direction when she's the one running this time
1. Chapter 1

Teine

"Letter for you Charlie," Molly watched Sherlock a brown and white barn owl flutter down onto the counter, holding a letter in his beak. Her son glanced up from brooding over his recent rescue animal being put outside. Even at twenty-five he was still moping when his mother rejected animals in the household. Meanwhile Molly took the letter from the owl and tapped it against her palm. "Are you planning on reading it?"

"She left mum, what the hell does she have to say to any of us?" Charlie rose from the table and left. Molly scowled at his back and opened the letter for herself. She read through it once, then twice before grinning. So, Ripley Todd was coming back, she had been gone for six months and now she was reemerging from Glasgow apparently. She watched her son moved around the garden that Ripley had planted. He was hurt, and so was the Auror. She had spoken to Rip when she could and she knew why the girl had left, and she knew why Charlie was wounded.

Love. Plain and simple. Molly had seen it over and over again. She was a mother after all. Even as she thought of the two Charlie went walking by the window, grousing under his breath. Behind him walked three hedgehogs. She wouldn't try to understand her son unless he opened up to her. But for now she would prep the guest room for Ripley. She hummed to herself as she headed up to the room. She would change it up some she decided. Ripley had changed since she had seen her last, and had grown a little bolder in her femininity. She opened the door, with a wave of her wand the shades flew open letting in the sun. With another wave a feather duster, broom and mop began to work around the room. The queen bed rotated its mattress and clean sheets in light pink began to fall over it.

Charlie peeked over his mother's shoulder, chewing on a biscuit. "She won't like the pink." He pointed out darkly.

"She will. She just won't admit it." Molly filled a crystal bowl with potpourri.

"Ask dad for the record player…she'd enjoy that," Charlie was gone before Molly could answer him. She smiled to herself. He was wounded, but not stupid.

It had been two years since he had last seen her. Six months since he had heard from her, and now she was coming back. Charlie sat on a rock amongst the garden Ripley had helped his mother plant; she had left a permanent mark at the Burrow what with the garden being shaped in a Claddagh. There was a patch of shamrock by his feet. _Just in case you ever feel like missing me when I'm in Ireland._ She had said as she planted the mound of green. And he had. Every single day for six months he had sat out here for at least five minutes. He had moved back from Romania to deal with the migratory dragons and it seemed fate was on a roll with old loves. His ears twitched a little as he heard the gravel crunching beneath tires. Ripley had returned.

Ripley Todd gazed at the Burrow, she remembered helping rebuild it two years ago, plotting with Molly on how to get a bigger kitchen. The ministry had helped a great deal with money to build the new home. But it didn't take away the memories of the attack, the screams. It didn't take away any of the pain. She sighed softly before checking the rearview mirror. She looked fine she assured herself. She had kept what little make-up she had on as natural, add in a new haircut, new clothes and she would be golden. What she hadn't taken into account was how her heart would beat the same fast way and palms still got sweaty at seeing Charlie. "Now or never," the Irish woman muttered to herself and exited her car.

"Ripley!" Molly clapped her hands as she ran from the house. "Hello gorgeous girl!" Ripley found herself in a warm embrace. She smiled as she hugged the portly woman back. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of fresh baked cookies and vanilla. "You look beautiful," Molly pulled back from the hug. "And you've lost weight." She had noted that the second she had hugged her. Ripley had always been of the sturdy breed. She was tall and was proportioned as so. Ripley smiled, and muttered her embarrassed thanks. Her brown eyes flicked over to the approach of Charlie. Molly turned to her son. "Don't be rude Charlie."

Swallowing hard the woman gave a forced smile. "Hi Charlie."

"Ripley." He nodded his head before dispersing. Ripley sighed, and tried hard to ignore the stab in her heart and the quick burn of tears that she blinked away. Molly patted her arm. "He'll come around dear."

But she was wrong.

He watched as she knelt in the garden that evening, idly picking away weeds and checking on the status of her flowers. He sighed as he leaned an arm against the window frame and thought of her. His blue eyes roved at her long legs in shorts. She had cut her hair, and done something else to it, she had never had bangs when they had been in school. Her lips that he had always loved weren't smiling as they used to. He wondered if it was the stress of being an Auror, he had heard stories of her and her brothers. They were known as the Todd Clan, it was the best writers could come up with, he supposed. In school they had been the rebels of the sacred heart; at the academy he had heard rumors that she had out shone her brothers' scores, but had never tied with her fathers. Charlie had also heard the hard parts. Her youngest brother was a Death Eater and her middle brother had been killed.

Grudgingly he had to admit that he was glad she was back, at least this way he'd know she was safe. And even more grudgingly he admitted she looked damn good. He didn't know what to do, would he go after her? Would he keep his distance? In the end which would be safer? He growled under his breath. Women just cluttered things up plain and simple. He'd keep his distance.

-0-0-0

She'd keep her distance. That was _exactly_ what she was going to do. She would do her things and he would do his. She yanked at a stubborn weed. She would avoid him, and while doing so she would look drop dead fucking gorgeous so he could see what he let slip by him. Molly sat on the stone bench behind her. "He's scared Ripley." She said lightly watching as the weeds were yanked with a vicious hand from the dirt and thrown into a wicker basket.

"He's hiding." She replied bitterly. "Like a fucking rabbit when a fox is near."

"Watch your mouth Ripley Ann Todd!" Molly scolded. The Auror grinned sheepishly. "He has missed you…"

"Lies, all lies," the woman replied with a slight smirk. She rose, checking her lupines and nodded her approval at the tall purple flowers. "He never cared for me." She hated the tug in her stomach, egging her to gaze up. She gave in and tilted her face skyward. He stood in his window, the breeze blowing through it and carried her cold words. "He never came for me." She turned her back on him as he had done so long ago to her.

* * *

><p>Authors Note: For those who have read my HP stories before you'll recognize Ripley. I wanted to do a Charlie story and went with her. Teine for the record is the gaelic word for fire. Enjoy.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

She despised the fact that she was hiding away in the guest room or at least one of the many rooms that housed members of the Order. She despised that he had the upper hand. Ripley unpacked slowly, placing her folded clothes into the Queen Anne cherry chest of drawers. The meticulous act of putting socks and undies into the top drawer, bras in the one next to it and shirts in the one below that calmed her nerves. She moved her jeans, shorts and the lonely skirt she owned went into the next. Resting a hand on the smooth polished wood she stared down at the different shades of blue in the drawer. What was she going to do? She glanced up to meet the sad brown eyes that were in the mirror. "How ever did you become so wounded Ripley Anne Todd?" She asked herself, the brogue of her own country foreign to her ears. "How did you come to trust so few? To be unforgiving…to be heartless." She turned away from the reflection in the mirror and set her small bag of make-up on the top of the chest. Sliding her now empty suitcase under the bed she stood in the middle of the pale pink colored room feeling lost.

Molly watched her from the doorway, a pang in her heart. She had seen both her son and this girl broken by a choice. By one simple decision. Charlie has chosen his dragons and Ripley her duty. Charlie had come back for the great war, fought alongside Ripley, cried with her, and left all over again. "Ripley dear," Molly spoke softly, but the Auror still whirled around with her wand out poised to fight. The red-haired woman saw the wild eyes, the look of a startled deer. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered her hand, tucked it away again. "Take a nap, you look tired." With that Molly departed. Sleep, Ripley thought, what was sleep? Closing the strong oak door she locked it, checked it, and then braced a chair against it. Checked the door again. It would hold. "What has the job done to you?" She asked herself softly. "You don't even feel safe in the safest place an Auror could be." Shaking her head at her own paranoia she undressed in front of the oval looking glass that stood in the corner. Slowly she pulled off the black scoop neck tee. Bruises marred the left side of her rip cage; a scar ran along the right of her rib cage. She stared at it, eyes filling with tears. It was a constant reminder that Calder was gone, a constant reminder that the Dark Lord had taken him.

She turned away from the mirror, stepped out of her jean shorts and slid under the light quilt. Maybe, just maybe she would sleep peacefully. Rolling onto her side she let out a soft sigh, and wiggled her toes. Relaxing from the bottom of her body to the very top she fell into sleep, and in sleep she dreamt.

_ "Poor Charlie," a leggy, youthful Ripley splashed in the Black Lake, the warm breeze of June tousled the red hair on Charlie's head as he watched her. "No time to play anymore, no time to have fun." She backstroked across water by the shore, her bare skin glistening like diamonds in the sun. "Study, study, study." She pouted, her ripe lower lip jutted out. His blue eyes lifted sorrowfully from the book in his lap. She rose out of the water walking toward him, her tankini clung to her skin and sent his mind in spirals. She dropped beside him smelling of the cool crisp water. He brushed a wet strand of brown hair from her forehead, stroking his calloused fingers along her face. "It's our last year," she said softly. Did he realize yet how much she loved him? How long she had been hiding it? _

_ "Yeah," Already he was back into his book. With her stomach in knots she took the heavy Divination book from his heads and tossed it aside. "Rip, c'mon." He reached for it only to have his hand reach warm damp smooth skin. She had moved quickly, as fast as her animagus form. Oh yes, she was very much like the cougar she had taken as a form. His fingers stroked the skin of her thigh, sending shivers of delight through her body. "No more studyin'," she whispered, the lilt of her voice drowning out all reason. Slowly, hesitantly she brushed her lips against his. With a murmur he wrapped her long hair around his hand and dragged her closer as he dove into the light, sweet taste of her. His body responded, his mind spun. It felt like a wave crashing over him, the rush, the thrill of it. _

_ On that warm June day, under the promise of the willow tree, under the setting sun she gave him her innocence. Gave him a piece of her, a piece she would never again get back. They twisted and twined, rolled, rode and galloped together into the wild abyss of Heaven, or as close as they could get. And had walked away as if nothing happened. She had wept for him. And even now, in the midst of sleep she reached out for the body that wasn't there._

He was brooding again, bloody Irish woman coming back into his life. He walked through the field behind the Burrow. He had shed his tee shirt; it dangled from his back pocket, a white flag. The June sun lay hot on his shoulders, and as he looked skyward he cursed it. Cursed it for reminding him of years gone by. Memories of a long legged Irish thoroughbred with a chestnut mane that had felt soft as sable—"Gods above Charlie," he shook his head, trying to erase the image of Ripley. "It's done with. It's over. You shouldn't have even done that ten years ago." Gods, had it been ten years? At twenty-seven he had only procured a few lovers. He hadn't needed them; he had his dragons and his work. He breathed in the scent of summer, the fresh cut grass, the flowers from Ripley's garden, the earthy scent of the woods as he entered them. It relaxed him, calmed him—tore at him.

She had always loved the woods. How could he forget the years they had spent in the Forest at Hogwarts? How could he forget her showing him her Animagus form? He had been so _proud_of her. And here he was at the turning of the years. Almost thirty, unmarried, horribly single. The loneliness was something he could ignore, most days. He stopped midstride, staring at the cougar in front of him. "Todd?" His voice was cold and hard. The animal swished its tail, growling. He narrowed his eyes. The markings weren't there for it to be Ripley. Slowly, very slowly he began to back away as the animal jumped down from the boulder she was on. Cougars were not at all native to England, she was probably the cast away of some Muggle collector, and even so it didn't stop the pounding of his heart. With a small 'pop' he left the wild cat by herself.

"He's a fool," Hermione stated watching Charlie appear by the house. Ginny grunted her agreement as she searched for a wedding dress. The scarred table was covered with them what with both girls planning their weddings. "Can he not see?"

"He's an idiot," Ginny replied easily. "I should know." She rose to join Hermione, wiggling her fingers to catch the glint of the diamond on her left hand and sighed happily. Her gaze went to her brother. "You know they slept together."

"They did?" Hermione turned, smirking. "When?"

"Seventh year."

"Oh my…did they date?"

"No, but I found his—well he calls it a journal," said Ginny with a shrug. "He said it in that he loved her. The last entry was behind he left for Romania."

"What did it say?" Hermione went back to the table. Ginny opened her mouth then snapped it shut as Charlie came back in, his mood blacker than before. "Hey Charlie," greeted the girls in unison. He grunted at both on his way through. "Well," Hermione prompted as she folded the corner of a page down in one of the catalogs. "What did it say?"

"He loved her."

"No…"

"Oh yes," Ginny marked her own page. "From sixth year till he left."

"Did she love him?"

"Didn't say," the red-haired replied with a frown. "I don't think either of them realized."

"Sad," muttered Hermione as she thought of her fiancé. What if Ron had never said anything? What if she hadn't? She would have ended up like Ripley and Charlie…

Refreshed and revived from her nap Ripley got dressed and took a step out of her room and right into Charlie. His arms wrapped around her to steady. He looked down into eyes the color of molten chocolate and saw the panic, the look of a trapped animal. He let her go and stepped back, hands at his side. She tried to slide past him, but his hand caught her arm, ignoring the soft skin. "Why didn't you come back?" He asked softly. She stared at him, her heart twisting in pain. "Why didn't you visit this Christmas?"

"Why'd you let me walk away?" She shot back and did just that, for the second time in his life. But this time he was going to make damn sure it wasn't to another country where no one knew where she was or never heard from her.


	3. Chapter 3

Teine

Chapter 3

There was a solution to every problem, Charlie decided. Ripley had been with them for two weeks already, summer was already into July, weddings were being planned and he was tired of pretending that the void he had felt for so long had filled since she had been with them. And yet she had kept her distance, as he had kept his. Even now he watched her. She sat in the garden amidst her flowers, tending to it. She looked content, though he had a hard time ignoring the dark smudges beneath her eyes. Ron glanced at him; the Quaffle he had in his hands was dying to be played with. "Charlie, c'mon." He prompted again. Charlie shook his head. "You said you wanted to play."

"What?" The Dragonkeeper turned brows crunched together. His blue eyes landed on his brother. "Ron?"

"Are you drunk?" The man asked with a sadistic grin.

"No."

"Then c'mon, we're playing Quidditch down behind the house." Ron dragged his brother with him, tramping through the garden.

"Not the bloody flowers you fool!" Ripley shouted after Ron, hurling a small rock at him. He yelped and rubbed his lower back where the rock had hit. "I hope that fuckin' hurt!" The Irish woman yelled. Charlie laughed, loud and long for the first time in months. Ripley ignored him, crouching back down into the dirt with a huff.

* * *

><p>"You're cooking tonight?" Molly asked as Ripley stood at the counter, peeling potatoes.<p>

"Aye," the Auror answered, humming a song quietly. She needed to get her mind off of Charlie, off of everything. And cooking, as it always had been, was her haven.

"That'll be a welcome relief," Hermione stated. "Molly will you help me now?" She motioned to the table full of magazines and lists. Molly smiled and sat down, but they didn't focus on the wedding for long. "Ripley can I ask you something?" Hermione fiddled with the pencil she held. An intrigued Ginny leaned on the table.

"Of course," the woman dumped the chopped potatoes into the pot and filled it with water. "Will you all want tea?" She took their nods as a yes.

"Why do you do things by hand when you have magic?" Hermione inquiered.

"Because when I get thrown into the Muggle world and have to live undercover tis much easier to be able to do know how to do it then try to learn."

"Can I ask another question?"

"Yes," Ripley browned beef in a frying pan with chopped onion and minced garlic. She pondered for a moment before dashing salt into it and ground pepper.

"What happened between you and Charlie?" She asked. Silence filled the kitchen as the knife clattered into the sink.

"'Mione…" Molly began softly.

"What's your meanin' Hermione?" Ripley turned to face her, cheeks pale leaving her brown eyes all the darker.

"You two have been avoiding each other for a very long time…longer than I've known you."

"You really are the brightest witch of your age, aren't ye?" Ripley said in return. Hermione blushed, glancing down. "Charlie never saw me," she went on as she began to mash the drained potatoes. "Never knew that I loved him, he was too blind, too damned stubborn." All the while she slammed the masher into the potatoes. Charlie watched warily from the door, listening to her words, and feeling that each one was the nail in his coffin. "And then, and then! He has the nerve to try and drag me back here after the war."

Molly stared down into her mug of tea, lips pursed in thought. "Could it be he wasn't ready?"

"Are men ever ready?" Replied the Auror. She went back to her cooking, spreading the mashed potatoes over the hamburger mixture and put it in the oven. "Do they ever truly realize what we do for them? All the times we change our hair? How long we spend choosing just the right outfit to wear? Or the pain we go through to make our bodies perfect for them just to _notice_." She took a sip of her Harp and let out a sigh as Charlie stepped into the room. An uneasy silence fell over the room.

"What's for dinner?" He asked lightly.

"Shepherd's Pie." Molly said even as Ripley spoke over her words.

"Your balls on a platter."

"Ripley, can we act like civilized adults?" Charlie went to the fridge as he spoke, grabbed one of her precious Harps. He used the bottle opener magnet and tossed the cap onto the counter watching her brown eyes frost over. "Can we pretend we were friends at one point?"

"Oh as sure as the rain will come today," Ripley answered. He scowled at her knowing perfectly well from his walk earlier that there wasn't a single cloud in the sky.

"Rip, c'mon…" Charlie tried again. "Ron's wedding is coming up, we can at least pretend—"

"I've had enough of pretending when we're around each other!" She shouted slapping her bottle down on the counter, the precious beer inside flowered out like a fountain onto the clean granite counter. "I've had _enough_ of pretending that I never felt love for ya, I've had enough of hiding my feelin's, of completely ignoring the pain that ya left me with!" She turned to leave, her foot just outside the door when he grabbed her arm, tightly. "Let me go."

He stared hard at her, working to control his temper as his words came out in a hiss. "No, not this time."

"The Devil take you Charlie Weasley!" She snarled and yanked free of his grip, stormed to her garden.

"That went well," Molly rose from her seat, eyes sharp and cold on her son. "I think you should go see that the boys have washed their hands. Girls." She directed her attention to Hermione and Ginny. "Clean off the table." Her gaze fell on Charlie once more. "Now Charlie!" He scowled and left, shoulders hunched.

* * *

><p>The woods were her Haven. They always had been, same with the ocean, especially the Cliffs of Moher. But here, here in the woods she could wander around as a cougar and relax enough to run, to pounce and play, but at the moment she just wanted to run. Standing at the edge of the forest she cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders. She shifted into the Cougar, her other half. She stood for a moment, the tail two-thirds the length of her body switched from side to side, the scent of the forest, of the earth and pines filled her nostrils. Her shape was just like any other cougar, but her markings were a dead giveaway. On her right haunch was the shape of a Celtic knot.<p>

She took a deep breath before she launched herself forward, four legs eating up the ground, her large paws leaving perfect paw prints in the mud. She leaped over streams, jumped onto boulders, weaved in and out of trees, all the while feeling the pain, the hurt of the years that come before.

_ "I'm proud of you," the seventeen year old Charlie said as Ripley shifted back into a person. The Gryffindor common room was empty, and Ripley had been showing off her new form with both satisfaction and poise. It had been her end of the year surprise. "You were the only to make it as an animagus." He smiled warmly at her. "Stubborn Irish."_

_ "How could I have given up on this?" She replied arrogantly. "The higher ups look for that sort of thing when they're interviewing someone." It was their final day in Hogwarts, everyone's trunks had been packed, students were milling about waiting for the final carriages to arrive, it was time for goodbyes. _

_He ignored the twist in his gut, pushed aside his fear. "Still aiming on becoming an Auror?"_

_ "Why wouldn't I?" She asked, brows furrowing together. "It's what I've always wanted." She leaned against the fire place mantle watching the sapphire in her Claddagh ring catch the sunlight. "I plan to join Cal, Mal and Ian as soon as possible."_

_ "In the U.S.?" Charlie frowned, his blue eyes hardening. _

_ "Of course, we're gathering our forces…" Ripley broke off as he walked toward one of the open windows. "Charlie, what's wrong?"_

_ "Nothing, nothing at all besides the fact you plan on risking your life for nothing!" _

_ "There are rogues from back when Voldemort gathered them; they have to be taken care of…"_

_ "Don't say his name Rip." Warned Charlie. _

_ "Why not? A man is only a man." She snarled. "It's not Bloody fucking Mary in the mirror." _

_ "He's not a man! He's a Dark Wizard, one that caused one too many deaths; I won't see you become another statistic!" He ran a hand through his hair, scowling darkly. _

_ "That's all it is then?" Ripley whispered into the silence. "I'm another statistic? I'm not following the right path, I'm not following in my family's footsteps, and above all that I'm a fuckin' statistic." She glared hard at him, brown eyes as cold as the hearth where for once no fire burned. _

_ "Rip that's not—I didn't mean—Christ!" _

_ "Ye best be prayin' ta somebody else Weasley," she replied coolly. "He won't be helpin' ye anytime soon." She pushed away from the mantle. _

_ "I don't want you to go," he admitted softly. His eyes sought hers and held. "Rip…"_

_ "You're leaving too, tisn't just me. Your dragons are calling." Her words were bitter and as sharp as a well honed dagger. She lifted up her shoulder bag that contained her favored books for the ride home. "We're both after different things." With a heavy sad sigh she drew her ring off and walked across the floor, her steps light. She took his calloused hand pressed the ring into it. "TIs good luck, you'll need it." She pressed her lips against his, lingered for a moment before turning away. She left, and he stood, he stood like a fool and watched the only woman he loved walk away. _

She sat at the edge of a stream, tears running down her face. Ripley wiped away the tears, sniffling. Memories were worthless. There was no need for them, especially the bad ones. She glanced down at her right hand, the Claddagh was the only ring she had ever worn, and it was lost to her. She had no idea what he had done with it, if he had kept it, if it had fallen to the hands of one of his lovers. She fingered the Celtic cross at her neck. Oh, she was a fool, such a fool. Had she only spoken the truth to Charlie, maybe just maybe something could have come of it…but it was too late. She pulled her knees up to her chin, staring at the trees on the other side the words to a Frank Sinatra sound ringing in her head. _Don't you love a farce? My fault, I fear. I thought that you'd want what I want, sorry my dear. But where are the clowns? Send in the clowns. Don't bother they're here._

* * *

><p>The sapphire twinkled like the ocean when the sun caught it just right. Charlie twisted it one way then the other letting it catch the light, the white gold of it sparkling. It was so tiny compared to his fingers, delicate, not a word that went with the owner of the ring. He let the ring and the chain it was on drop back onto his bare chest. He lay on his bed, staring at the wooden ceiling, thinking. Again he lifted the ring, running his thumb of the etched hands. The last time he had seen her was seven months before the Great War.<p>

_It was a dark stormy night at the Burrow not only in the way of weather, but also with the moods of those within the newly built home. Charlie sat by the fire in the den, a glass of whiskey in hand, idly he swirled the amber liquid around the glass. A woman was on his mind, not just any woman, not just any female of the Wizarding world, but Ripley. There was her picture in the Daily Prophet, smiling amongst three men. The headlines read simply __The Todd Clan At It Again__. The story was of the sister and her three brothers rising to the top of the Aurors through battles and captures, interrogations and damning Death Eaters to their fate. _

_ She had made a name for herself that was for sure, Charlie thought darkly. They had gone to Hogwarts together, graduated together—but that was all, and now it seemed he would be regretting it. He had never made his move, he hadn't thought to. Still her face from the photo lingered in his mind. And if that wasn't enough he heard the first door open and close with a sharp snap. He rolled his blue eyes; Ron was probably in a fit of Hermione or something. His nostrils flared out, the sharp senses of the dragonologist caught on to the scent in the air. _

_ Charlie rose from his seat swiftly, hand reaching for his wand. His eyes scanned the darkness as he moved into the kitchen. The fire burned low in the hearth sending shadows dancing across the walls and cupboards. He froze as the tip of a wand pressed into the nape of his neck. "And that's how I was able to sneak in." An alto voice tinged with humor and a Irish brogue stated. _

_ His gut twisted into slippery knots as Ripley slid past him, tucking her wand into her jeans back pocket. It had been eight years or more since he had seen her, and those years had done the twenty-five year old justice. She was slimmer than he remembered, but that could have been the change in how he viewed women since Hogwarts, or it had been his mother complaining of how men viewed women in her day. Whatever it was it didn't matter. "What are you doing here?"_

_ "Your mother invited me for the week. If you had been around long enough you would realize she's given me a second home here." Bitterness toward him tainted her soft words. _

_ Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"_

_ "Ya heard me, you just fucking disappeared after the Order is formed and targeted." She dug into the fridge searching for her stash of Harp. Finding the bottle she opened it and took a swig. "You ran. And you hid." _

_ Charlie snorted. "Quite the accusation from someone who turned tail and ran from everyone after she graduated."_

_ "I had a life to lead; I had a dream to take care of."_

_ Charlie arched his brows. "And you accuse me of simply running. What about my dream?" _

_ Ripley sighed, pressing the heel of her hand to her brow. "Look can we save the bullshit argument for tomorrow morning?"_

_ "How about we just don't argue?" Charlie suggested darkly. _

_ "Now why would I wanna miss out on that?" she asked sarcastically. "We haven't done it in a couple years." The red-head rolled his eyes turning away from her. They went to their separate rooms and in the morning when he sought her out for a fight she was already gone. His mother told him later that it had been an ambush, one that she and her brothers had been lucky enough to walk away from._

Charlie let out a sigh and rose from his bed. There had to be some peace offering that he could give her. The ring? No, that would hurt both of them. He pondered as he walked and then grinned as the perfect idea stared at him.


	4. Chapter 4

_ The cold seeped into her bones, the air stung her nose, and as she shivered Ripley tugged down the light pink cabled hat. It was a strange way to celebrate her twenty-third birthday, but such was an Auror's life. The four of them had been hunting. The snow crunched softly beneath the booted feet of four shadowy figures, the magically created fog shielded them from sight, and the light-noise discipline ordered by Ripley was paying off. She wouldn't lie to herself and say she wasn't nervous because her body was vibrating with nerves; every muscle she bore was pulled taut. Beside her Danny Wickwire her own partner moved stealthy through the mist, he sent her a quick smile of reassurance. The men with her were all to be trusted, hell one of them was her own brother. _

_ Ripley crouched down behind a tree, motioning for the team to do the same. She could see the dark outline of the building they were to go into. Mark and Calder crouched down near her. She faced them, wand in hand, pointed two fingers toward Mark and Cal, and motioned for them to take the lead. She turned to Danny, and nodded. They began to toward the building. Flea, one of the group's animagi transformed into a hawk and flew up toward the windows on the second floor. Ripley couldn't use her form, as a cougar would be a little out of place, and Wick the last one was a mouse, they would use him inside. _

_ She brought back Mad Eye's words in her mind as best she could over the brief meeting. 'There'll be ten Death Eaters in there, all leaders of other units. Capture two; kill the rest, no escapees. You'll have limited time, and limited men. We're relying on you to get the job done. Albus doesn't want anyone alive. You can handle that, can't you?' Ripley couldn't believe that it had been Albus who had ordered the demise of everyone else. It showed her just how bad the war would get. Wick tapped her shoulder, and pointed his whole hand toward the door. She saw the Death Eater smoking a cigarette, the red spot glowed. A jet of green struck him from the right where Cal had been hiding. _

_ The Death Eaters hadn't expected the ambush. They came from all sides, curses being shouted, the cast spells lighting up the night like the Northern Lights. She couldn't remember much after it had all been over and done with. She had called out, her voice hoarse from shouting curses. Calling for her brother as more Aurors arrived on the scene to take the ones that they had been able to capture. The Dark Mark lit the gory scene below, and she found them. _

_ Slipping and sliding through slush and snow she ran. "Calder!" She screamed. Everything around her began to blur, to slow down; her legs carried her over bodies, around friends, her hearing dimmed so there were barely echoes of the scene and screams of the Death Eaters being dragged, it returned suddenly with her resounding scream. "No!" She fell on her knees beside him. "Oh God, oh God," her hands moved unsurely above his body before she pressed both hands to his blood-soaked shirt trying to staunch the flow; tears welled in her gray eyes. "Calder no," she shook her head as she he fought for breath._

_ "Rip," he whispered through cracked dry lips. "My Rippy, my little lion."_

_ "Cal no," she looked around widely, tears escaping. "Healer! We need a healer! Carson!" she screamed her voice breaking. Calder held onto her hand, squeezing hard. "You'll be fine," she whispered, touching his cheek. "I promise," she began trembling, fear racing through her veins like horses in a field. "You'll be all right, Cal."_

_ "Rip it's no use." He closed his eyes, arching his neck back in pain._

_ "Don't leave me now that the battle has turned in our favor," The Auror sniffled. He opened his eyes once more staring deeply into hers. "Calder, I cannot do this alone, please!" she cried out._

_ "I'm sorry," he closed his eyes taking a shuddering breath; he opened them slowly, emerald eyes glinting in the moon, shadowed as an owl passed over head. "If I could have one last thing Ripley, my little lass," he met her eyes. "It would be to have you dance again. Like the old days. The Celie's at home, dancing the jigs, the waltzes…" He closed his eyes bringing the image of the stone cottage in Ireland into his mind, hearing the fiddle, seeing his sister and brothers dancing. _

_ "There'll be time for that later," she whispered. "I am going to save you," she caressed his cheek. "Carson!" She shouted again, but no one came. _

_ "It's too late," he whispered, hand grasping hard onto hers, he opened his eyes. "My life is over, it's time for yours to start."_

_ "It's not too late, Cal, it's never too late, I can save you; you'll be alright…"_

_ He shook his head, his vision dimming black on the edges. "No .Do me a favor Rip." She had nodded prepared to give her life for his if that was his wish. He smiled. "You keep fightin' ya hear me? You keep fucking fighting. _

_ "Cal!" Malcolm Todd shouted, running toward them. He had arrived on scene with their last brother Ian behind him. He could see them clearly, his sister weeping, his brother lying still. _

_ "Tell the family…" Calder gasped for a final breath. "Love them."_

_ "Calder!" Ripley swiped a hand at her tears, her brother's hand fell limp in hers. "Calder," she shook him. "Cal wake up, wake up!" When there no response she fell forward, barely feeling the wet snow seep into her jeans. Sobs racked her body; she didn't feel Ian's hand in hers or Mal's arm around her. She felt nothing. _

_ The rage filled her, so suddenly that it frightened even her. She sat up, brown eyes dark with purpose. With a loving hand she closed his lids and let out a breath. Lips twitching, tears flowing from her eyes, she clenched her jaw. Her breathing came heavy. He had died doing what he loved. "I'm going to find them." She stepped back and was gone with a sharp pop. That night the Order lost four good Aurors and the Death Eaters lost fifteen members when Ripley in rage went on a rampage caring not even for her own life, Ian, Mal and Danny had accompanied her. They were put on probation for two weeks in which the ministry lost five more Aurors. They were fighting in a battle to be free once more. _

She awoke with a cry, a sharp harsh sound in the quiet. She clawed at her throat and felt her hand connect to a soft body that chirped irritably at her. In the light of the morning she saw the calico cat curled on her chest. It stared at her with calm green eyes. "Well hello there." Ripley stroked the head. "Who are you?"

"She's yours," a voice stated from the corner. She focused in on Charlie, sitting at ease on the chaise. He rose, walked over to the bed. "They were going to euthanize her at the local shelter."

"Why?" Ripley pulled the cat protectively to her chest.

"No one wanted her," Charlie smiled as the cat head-butted her new master. "They had no more room, she's seven…which means—"

"No one wants her," Ripley stared down at the cat. "She's too old in their minds."

"Exactly." Charlie sat down on the edge of the bed, gazed at her. They were talking as they once had, years ago, comfortably, trusting. He saw her eyes sharpen; fully awake she was ready to dispel him from the room. "You had a nightmare." He said softly. "Didn't you?"

"What's it to you?" She shot back, drawing into herself.

Charlie sighed. "Y'know there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of Fred," His blue eyes watched her with a softness that startled the Auror. "Not a single day where I don't ask myself what I could have done if I had gotten there just a _second_ earlier." He shrugged his shoulders. "Anyways, I figured you needed a friend." He stroked that cat one last time and left her room.

"Well then," Ripley muttered to the calico. "I suppose you need a name, but I think that can wait until the suns actually up all the way." After saying so she lay on her side, and merely smiled when the rather weighty cat settled her bulk on her ribcage.

* * *

><p>"You got her a cat?" George stared at Charlie as they sat at the breakfast table, half asleep in just his pajama pants. Charlie, fully dressed, on his second cup of tea sat with the paper. "A bloody cat."<p>

Charlie flicked his eyes up to glance at his brother. "She needed a friend." He replied with a shrug. It was the truth.

"So _shag_ her. All you're doing know is pushing her toward the life of an old cat lady who sits and knits for children she doesn't have." George finished his tea, wide awake now and on a rampage. "She'll have this dingy old cottage, moth-eaten clothes, it'll smell like cat piss _all_ the time, she'll eat cat food from a tin, have hundreds upon hundreds of cats, knit away her life 'till she runs out of yarn and then keep at it!" He was oblivious to the fact Ripley stood behind him, dressed for the day, cradling the cat in her arms, an amused expression on her face. "All of this will happen if you don't save her from this fate Charles Weasley."

"And how," the brogue of Ireland made him wince. "Shall he do that George?" Ripley's new friend jumped from her arms to the table, sniffing delicately at George's plate of sausages and eggs.

The red head fumbled for an idea, for words, wishing that Fred had been there as his back-up. "By…getting you—"

"Ripley, you're awake," Hermione saved her fiancé's brother from his fumble; Ron stood beside her and nodded his greeting. "We were just discussing going into London for dresses."

"And I'm sure Ron is thrilled about that," said Ripley dryly, stroking the cat. "Is it necessary to bring him?" She hid her smile at his pleading look. "After all he won't be wearing a dress…unless there's something we don't know."

"Well," began Hermione, frowning. "They do need to get sized for tuxes…"

"They?" George and Charlie said in unison.

"Ron you didn't tell them?" Hermione turned on her fiancé. He smiled guiltily. "Harry is Ron's best man, George, Charlie you're the groomsmen."

"Suffer," Ripley muttered wickedly as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

"You're a bridesmaid Rippy," Hermione said sweetly. The Auror choked on her drink, coughing harshly. Charlie walked over, patted her on the back and murmured. "Suffer." She glowered at him, then at Hermione.

"So, are you all ready?" Hermione smirked. "George, get dressed. Ripley can we go in your…"

"Car?" Ripley finished. The woman nodded. "Aye we can."

"Good, I'll go get ready," Hermione departed and left Charlie, Ron and Ripley in silence.

* * *

><p>Ripley scowled darkly as she stood beside her vehicle. "How the hell long does it take for her to get ready? She looked ready, didn't she?" She ran her fingers back through her straight hair and glared at the house. "This is a waste of my Saturday." Charlie smiled slightly, but remained quiet. It irritated her, utterly infuriated her that he was managing to get right back into her heart without words, just by actions. "Why'd you get me a cat?" She asked suddenly.<p>

"I told you—"

"The real reason Charlie."

"You said my name," He grinned at her, and dammit it all it made her heart flutter. "At least without yelling at me." She glanced at him, brushed at the hair that the wind blew into her face. "You said you'd be back for Christmas."

"Can we not start that…"

"Why? You'll just keep running."

"I never ran Weasley," She bristled at the accusation, brown eyes burning holes into him. "I had a job to do."

"That's always your excuse isn't it Rip," he shot back. "You had a job to do, you had this, you had that."

"And of course ye've never done that!" She shouted back, her brogue thick. "Ye've never missed Christmas because of your precious fucking dragons! Well, I've news for ya Charlie Weasley, Death Eaters are more important than yer goddamn reptiles!" She walked away from him, only to turn back oblivious to their audience. "I waited for ye! For three years I waited! I got nothin'! No owl, no word, nothing. And when I did come back ye looked at me as if I had grown horns—so I left again, and I thought it'd be for good."

"And you say I run," The man spoke quietly, eerily calm. "You say I run when you only came back to fight and then you left _again_. I stayed."

"You stayed for your family." She snarled.

Charlie scoffed at her weak attempt. "As I should have, you shoulda stayed for yours, especially when Ian-"

"Ian has nothing to do with this!" She didn't need the image of her brother bloodied and barely alive being taken away by healers. "He's alive, and I'm grateful."

"Grateful? You went back to Ireland without a second glance! You didn't care about him nearly dying!" As soon as the words left his mouth he snapped it shut, blue eyes watching the wounded expression contour her face. She licked her lips, eyes filling with tears. "Rip, I'm—"

"Forget it." She said. "That was a good hit," She nodded, lips quivering. "Well done sir." With a mocking bow she walked away from him. "Next Saturday." She told Hermione. "Please."

"Of course." Hermione murmured, squeezed her friends hand. The witch watched Charlie as he came to the house. He was her fiancés brother, which made him family in her mind. "You stubborn jackass."

"'Mione not now," Charlie sat down on the stone stoop, buried his face in his hands. "I've fucked this all up. It's her bloody temper!" Hermione's expression softened as she sank down beside him. "It's always been her defense. Always."

"She's scared," the woman said gently.

Charlie snorted. "She's stubborn." He played idly with the ring around his neck, Hermione watched his fingers and smiled. "What?" He asked darkly.

"Is that hers?"

"Yeah," He looked down at it. "She gave it to me our seventh year."

"She loved you."

"No, she just said it was good luck." Charlie shrugged. "It's a trinket."

"Idiot." Hermione groaned. "Bloody idiot. When a woman gives you a ring to wear it's so you remember her."

"Hard to forget Ripley Todd."

"Even harder to admit you're in love with her," Hermione said rising. She left him alone with that thought, and was feeling rather smug with herself.


	5. Chapter 5

He was giving up; Charlie hated to admit it, hated more that Hermione was right. Ripley would come to him when she was ready, he had to believe that. Even as he was thinking of it he saw her packing. The knife of fear twisted in his gut. "Rip…" He edged into her room; she looked up from her bag and managed a smile. "You can't leave—"

She had known this was coming, if it hadn't been him, it would have been someone else. "I have to."

"No, you don't. Look, if it's about us, I mean, Merlin's Beard Rippy." Charlie lifted his hands cupping the air in front of him as if trying to grab onto something that wasn't there before he let them drop. She stilled her hands, he had used the nickname is allowed very few to use and it killed her.

Ripley shook her head, zipped her overnight bag. She heaved a sigh, eyes closed. "Charlie," She turned, shouldered the bag. "Don't tell anyone…" He nodded. "Mal sent an owl, Death Eaters are infiltrating Belfast. My team and Mal's are gonna go stop 'em before they hit our Ministry."

"Alone?" He blocked the doorway.

"We'll have ten Aurors," She bristled like an angry cat, teeth bared for a fight. "Tis enough." She assured him. She gave in to her inner urges and stroked her fingers down the side of his cheek, brown eyes soft as melted chocolate. "T'will be fine." She offered a smile. "Ya never used ta worry so."

"I did, you just never knew," he replied gently. "Why else would I keep the ring?"

She licked her lips, unsteady with the confession. She took her sharp breath. "Ye kept it?" He nodded, tugged the chain out from his shirt. Ripley stared at the ring that she had worn since her fifth year at Hogwart's, the ring that her Aunt had passed down from Ripley's own mother.

"D'ya want it back?" He asked quickly, he had seen the want in her eyes and went to unclasp it.

"No," She stilled his hand with hers. She squeezed it, hard. "Keep it Charlie. It was a gift."

"Ten years ago…" He added hesitantly. She lifted a shoulder. "Take this then." He dug into his pocket, fumbling past bits of string, some owl treats before he found what he had been looking for. "It's my good luck charm." He opened his hand. In his palm sat a silver figurine of a dragon. "There's a, uh, a little hook to wear on a, uh, umm, chain—why are you staring at me like that?" The woman kept staring, her eyes filled to the brim with tears. He shuffled around uneasily. "Don't cry Rip, I hate when you cry."

"Then I'll just do this," She took the dragon and put her arms around his neck, squeezed tightly. "Don't wait up." She said, kissed his lips softly and left. He sighed, looked at the cat on the bed and shrugged. "She's a strange one, isn't she?" He said, she mewed at him. "Come on then…whatever your name is." He picked her up and noticed the embroidered collar. "Eponine? Odd name." He murmured and winced as Molly shouted for Ripley. "Well, shall we die together?" He asked the cat darkly.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean she's GONE!" Molly's shout had George retreating from the kitchen as Charlie tried to sneak away as well. "Do not move." His mother jabbed a finger at the ground. "Ginny," Her voice softened. "Be a dear and get a hold of Malcolm."<p>

"You can't mum," Charlie said reluctantly.

"And why not?" She snapped.

"They've gone to Belfast."

"They haven't got anyone in Belfast," Molly replied airily, knowing her son was wrong. "All her families in Killarney."

"Belfast for business."

Molly frowned. "What…Charlie, what do you know?"

"She told me not to tell anyone."

"Out with it." Molly tapped her wand against the palm of her hand, George ducked behind Charlie.

"Death Eaters are attacking Belfast." The Dragonkeeper said quickly. If there was one thing he knew at that point in time it was not to mess with his mother.

"And?" Molly prompted.

"And Ripley and Mal are taking their teams to defend it."

"Bloody Hell," Muttered Molly. "Does Ian know?"

"Mum, I don't even know the details."

"Well, he'll know soon enough," She stated. "Charlie, bring Ian here."

* * *

><p>Thunder rumbled, lighting slashed through the dark clouds, and still the group marched on. The woods they were in sheltered them from the rain, but that wouldn't last for long. The ten of them stood on the outskirts of Belfast, a line of the last defense the Irish ministry had. Ripley took a deep breath watching the Aurors that were still alive battle the Death Eaters. Black clouds attacking white, flying through the air. Mal glanced at his sister, slid his hand in hers and squeezed hard. She squeezed back before moving forward into the battle.<p>

Broken glass crunched softly beneath their booted feet. The ten of them had their eyes wide open, searching for their own wounded, searching for the enemy. Ripley crouched down behind a fallen statue, motioning for the team to do the same. She could see the dark outline of three men. Wick and Flea crouched down beside her. She faced them, wand in hand, pointed two fingers toward Bennett and Slov, and motioned for them to take the lead. She turned to Wick, and nodded. They moved slowly steadily, ducked behind another chunk of cement. A jet of green struck him from the right where Owen Bennett had been hiding. Another from Mal and a third from Ripley.

It took only a moment before they were in a state of panic, confusion, and much more. Spells cast carelessly could get one of their own killed, hesitating could get them all killed. Ripley took the lead as any commander would do, and kicked the door to the ministry in. "Clear!" She shouted behind her. One by one the others entered taking up their positions. Flea appeared from his reconnaissance to the second floor. "Where are they Flea?" She whispered.

"Second floor, sleeping."

"Rip," Wick turned to look at her. "They're sleeping."

"They're Death Eaters Danny, would you rather us wake them up?" She asked sarcastically. "Make it a fair fight where they, the more experienced fighters, could beat us?"

"She makes a valid point," Bennett said over his shoulder. "Personally I like the element of surprise."

"It's heartless, but needed." Mal weighed in as he knelt beside an dead Auror. "Seamus Finnegan." He told Rip. She closed her eyes; a third cousin in her family was dead because they hadn't been quick enough.

"We getting dinner after this?" Flea asked from her left. "I'm hungry."

"Flea," Ripley's words came out slightly hesitant. "Could you, y'know, save the bullshit for when we get outta this, I don't know, _alive_."

"Once more she makes a valid point," Owen tossed in.

"Can we get a move on?" Wick asked. "Please. I don't wanna be found."

"Sounds like you're worried—" Flea's words were cut off as the window beside them exploded in a red light.

"Down, down, get down!" Ripley roared, casting a spell toward the running Death Eater. Another window exploded sending glass shards around them, it sliced into the skin of the Aurors fighting. "Y'know what would be nice?" Ripley shouted as she took shelter behind a wall.

"What's that?" Wick yelled back from the other side of the hall.

"If we weren't here!" The Irishwoman replied, and dived into the middle of the hall casting a spell. A jet of green hit the Death Eater square in the chest. Spells, curses, jinxes bounced across the room, smashing. She kept a half an eye on Mal and her team, which cost the cut she now sported on her back.

"Rip, we have two!" Owen roared standing beside two bodies. "Stupefied."

"Any others?" She asked in the sudden quiet.

"Two got away," Flea walked toward her, blood trickled from a head contusion.

"What way?"

"They headed east."

"Shit," Ripley turned, and began to sprint. "I'll be back."

"Rip!" Wick ran after her, the last thing he caught of her was the swish of a long brown tail, and a cougar bounded into the fields. "Shit, shit, shit!" He ran his fingers through his brown hair. "Flea?"

"On it," The Auror transformed into a hawk, and flew out the nearest broken window.

Owen nudged his foot into one of the Death Eaters legs. "Amazing," he said. "Dudes wearing friggin' Italian shoes."

Danny looked at him, brows crunched together. "And?"

"Nothin'," Bennett shrugged. "Just sayin'," he grinned at Wick's annoyed expression. "The guy has taste." Wick's expression remained unchanging. "Let's just get them, and us the hell outta here, okay?"

"What about Rip and Stevie?"

"They can take care of themselves." Mal stated lifting one of his team members into his arms. "Erickson's wounded, so are you two. We have to go."

"We don't leave our men behind Mal."

"And we don't let the enemy find us," Bennett turned toward his friend. "Now what's your choice?"

Mal stared at Owen for a long moment, his brown eyes glanced toward the area Ripley had sprinted into and sighed. "Job comes first."

* * *

><p>Charlie paced the length of the kitchen it was nearly dawn, and there were still two Aurors missing. He made another turn as Molly fussed over Owen and Wick. "She ran off?" He asked for he third time.<p>

"Flea's with her," Wick answered, wincing as Molly pulled a chunk of glass from his arm. "Two got away, so Rip chased."

"I told her to," said Mal woefully. "Leave none alive, those were my exact instructions." He didn't want to think of the consequences that could occur; they could lose not only a good Auror, but a loved one, his sister.

"We captured two," Owen offered as a consolation. His large fingers plucked a small fragment of a teacup from the side of his neck. "They had a hell of a lot glass in there. And really bad aim."

"What makes you think they wanted to hit us? Why stupify us when they can have annoying glass shards embedded in your fuck—friggin' skin," Danny changed his words at Molly's glare. "So much more painful than being stunned."

Charlie took a swig of the warm beer he held, and released a heavy sigh. He glanced out at the half moon. "How long?"

Wick glanced down at his watch. "Bout two hours."

"Normal?" Charlie asked sitting down on the bench that ran alongside the fireplace. Owen and Danny shared a look. "Guys?"

"Rip's usual quick with this kinda thing," Danny answered after a beat of silence. "Could be she went back for reconnaissance."

"That's probably it," added Owen, he offered a smile, but Mal was already leaving the room. Ian would need to be contacted, so would their Godmother Maggie in Ireland. And Zach…he pondered on his father's name and decided they were better off without him.

* * *

><p>Six hours went by, then a day. Charlie was moping around, brooding in his room and on occasion he would move to the kitchen. George watched him in silence as his brother cracked open a bottle of Harp. "Maybe she's not coming back." The young man said one day. Charlie flicked his blue eyes over to his brother. "She's overdue."<p>

"Rip's always overdue," Ian said from the pantry. He and Maggie had arrived a day after Mal had sent word. Two Auror's were still in Belfast, somewhere. Even as he pondered what might have happened, a light caught his eye. He froze, tilting his head. Charlie rose from his seat, George frowned and turned. Sitting by the fireplace was a silvery-white cougar. It walked over to Ian and sat once more. "Is anyone else in here?" the cougar asked. It carried the brogue of Ireland, but through that he heard fear. Ian glanced at Charlie and George, shook his head. "I need your help Ian. Flea should be there any second."

"Ripley I'm three thousand miles away. What do you think I can do that you can't do?" He asked with a frown.

"Honestly, I don't know. I was..ah.. hoping... maybe... save me?" Cougar dropped her head, lashing her tail.

"Are you in danger?" Ian asked. Charlie felt a ball of ice form in his stomach.

The cougar looked behind her. "I have to go."

"Ripley!" Charlie rose from the table. But the patronus faded. "I'm going to Ireland." The man began to walk toward the door. Ian jogged after him and grabbed his arm. "She's in danger Ian, why else would she send out the patronus?"

"I'll go," Ian said gently. "It's too dangerous for someone who's not an Auror. Order or not." Before either could argue Flea stumbled in through the front door, bleeding from his side.

"Molly!" Ian shouted. He caught the Auror and hauled him to the table. Molly bustled in and gasped. She stood for a moment, watching the man bleed onto the table. Flashbacks of George being wounded, of Fred dying, hit one right after another. "Molly he needs help!" Growled Ian. "Hot water, bandages. Anything!" His harsh words snapped her out of it and she moved like a woman possessed to gather supplies.

"We were ambushed," Flea managed as Ian ripped up the man's shirt. "The second we hit the forest behind the Ministry they got us, the fuckers got us." He closed his eyes, wishing for a glass of whiskey, brandy, any sort of alcohol at all. Charlie as if hearing the man's thoughts poured two fingers of whiskey into a glass. Steven gulped it down and hissed out a breath as Molly began to clean it. "Rip's out there somewhere." He wild green eyes sought out Ian and his bloodied hands gripped onto the Todd's shirt. "It was your brother."

Ian furrowed his brown brows, his blue-grey eyes a mixture of grief and disbelief. "That's impossible Flea, Cal's dead."

"Not Cal, Ian, it was Thom." Flea whispered and then the world turned black.


	6. Chapter 6

On the third day of her tracking the night wrapped her dark shawl around Ripley, comforting the woman with the camouflage it gave her. She had been tracking the two men non-stop, and if her gut was right she guessed she was back in England. She paused as she came to a fork in the road, she smiled. Her gut was right, and they were heading toward London. With a sigh she continued her walk. She was tired, hungry, wet from the storm, and she was bleeding steadily from miscellaneous wounds. How long had it been? Had the men gotten back safe? She was too tired, too worn out to send a patronus. Even as she walked debating what should happen, who she was following she knew she was being watched.

"Ripley." A hawk swooped down in front of her, bright as the sun. She swore quiet viciously at the patronus. "Come home, stop chasing him." Ian told her. "Everyone's worried."

"He killed Calder." She snarled. "You were there! You saw it!"

"Charlie told me to tell you to stop being a stubborn fool!" Ian's patronus followed her. "We'll get him together Rip."

"He deserves to die _tonight_."

"Then let the entire Todd Clan decide that, you, my dear, represent only your personal views in this. What about Maggie, Mal, Da? They have a say too."

"I'll deal with you—" She broke off with a yelp as the spell caught her. The patronus vanished as a dark figure approached.

"Well, well, well," The soft voice sent shivers of hate down her spine. "If it isn't my older sister," Thomas Todd knelt in front of his sister. He studied the bruised and bloodied face and smirked. "Did you think," He yanked her head back with the ponytail she wore. "That I would die in the final battle?"

"We all have dreams, brother," Ripley snarled. He growled and shoved her forward, walking away. "Don't turn your back on me!" She rose with a spell shooting from her wand. Thom screamed and covered his face with his hands. Boils, bulging with pus covered his face. With a curse sent at her he cleared his face. She stood, limbs locked.

"My dear Ripley, it is you who shouldn't turn your back on me! Crucio!" Thom watched with gleeful gray eyes as his sister crumpled to a heap, and listened to the rich sound of her scream shattering in the night. "Oh, do shut up!" He snapped and released from the curse.

"Incendio!" Ripley pointed the maple wand at him, Thom let out a small yelp as the edge of his robes caught on fire. He was quick to douse it. The brother and sister dueled for ten, fifteen, thirty minutes, before Thom sighed and cast a spell that tipped Ripley upside down, hanging in the air. "I'll kill you." She spat out the promise, the blood rushing to her head. Scratches marred both of them; Thom was bleeding heavily from his nose and Ripley from her leg where a gash ran from knee to hip. "Well, well, Thom at last, we see each other plain. I swear to you tonight you'll wear the chain of Azkaban."

"I'm warning you Ripley, I'm a stronger man by far. There is power in me yet. My race is not yet run. There is nothing I won't dare; if I have to kill you here I'll do it."  
>"Then do it!" She swung at him, he stepped back. "You can run, but I'll find you. Wherever you go, wherever you hide I'll be there."<p>

Thom said nothing, he saw the cold glint in her and as he cast the Dark Mark above her he saw the fury, the heartless gaze of a hunter, and it chilled him to the bone.

"Dark Mark," Mal ran into the kitchen a letter in hand. "Arthur just floo'd in, Pepperinge Eye." Ian rose from his seat, wincing at the scar on his side. "Come on Charlie, you can come, too." Molly watched them leave, wringed her hands even as Ginny reassured her that everything would be fine. Ron and Harry joined the men leaving. Molly watched as they faded into the night with a 'pop'. "Bring her back." Molly murmured when she was alone.

Mal and Ian led the group toward the mark; their wands were out and at the ready. They heard a sound that was close to a flock of birds. "Are those bats?" Mal muttered. Ian shook his head and then cursed loudly as the flock of birds enveloped them, and the sharp crack of Thom disapparating. "Holy Mother of Christ," Malcolm whispered before running to the upside down form of his sister.

"Rip!" Charlie sprinted toward her, passed Ian, passed Mal before reaching her the counter curse flying from his wand. He caught her as she fell, unconscious in his arms. "Mal!" He called for her brother, the Auror dropped to his side, checked for a pulse. "Is she-?"

"She's alive," Mal told him darkly. "Let's get her back." Even as he went to lift her, she woke up. "Hey baby girl." She stared at him through bleary eyes, before her vision cleaned.

"Thom," She whispered then struggled to get up. Mal let her go only to watch her stumble to her feet and fall to her knees. She cried out in pain clutching her thigh. Charlie lifted her into his arms, his face grim. "I need to find him," Ripley muttered. "I need to—"

"You need to get back to the Burrow and get this gash cleaned up." He finished her sentence. Ian approached, face slicked with the sweat. "She's in rough shape." Charlie said.

"Let's go then."

* * *

><p>Molly met them outside of the Burrow and under the light of five wands, peeked at the wounds. "This is far more than I'm able to do." She told them softly. Ripley, once more unconscious, was sickly pale. "Too much blood was lost. We'll go to St. Mungo's." Even as she spoke her son was gathering Ripley into his arms. He tried not to think of the blood that was on his hands, that the blood belonged to Ripley. To the girl he had always known as invincible, no one had ever hurt her, made her bleed. "You'll be fine Rippy, I promise." He whispered, and disapparated.<p>

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor laddy," Mal said dryly as Charlie passed him for the umpteenth time. "She'll be fine." It was now midmorning, the night had been a frantic rush to her Ripley seen to, and then there had been silence. No word since then.

"How can you just _sit_ here?" Charlie snapped. "She's been in there for hours, did you even see how much blood there was?"

Ian replied, eyes shut as he leaned against the wall. "She's bled before, seven days a week, once a month for the last—"

"Shut it," Mal said tiredly, in the identical position as Ian. The Todd brothers were worried, there was no doubt. There was that ball of ice in the pit of their stomachs. But experience had taught them to be calm, to be collected. Charlie wasn't an Auror, therefore he didn't think as Aurors thought. No, he wasn't like them, he decided as he paced to and fro. He could never sit so easily if a family member was lying on a hospital bed.

"Ian and Malcolm Todd?" A healer approached them; she was a small petite woman with honey blond hair and had Ian's jaw dropping. Kirby Callahan glanced down at her clipboard making sure she got the names right.

"How's Ripley?" Charlie rushed toward her; Mal clamped a hand on the dragon keepers' shoulder to slow his pace.

"She's awake, lucid and making a hell of a ruck—" Even before Kirby could finish the sentence they heard the angry brogue of Ripley.

"I'm tellin' ye I'm fine, I need to get out of this fuckin' bed—what the hell is that? Don't ya dare come near me with that boy-o, I can and will curse ye into next year!" They saw a tall man hurry down the hall.

"Kirby…" He began irritably. "You do it, she won't listen to me." He opened his mouth to speak again as the three men brushed past, but all he could come up with was a croak. Kirby pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from laughing, as once more Jason croaked.

"She got you." Kirby smirked. "Come on let's see if we can get her to do a counter curse."

"Ribbit."

"I don't care if they say I'm fuckin' bed ridden," Ripley's voice echoed in the quiet room. "I'm going after the fucker. I want a trace on him, I want to know every single movement he makes, I want a report on how the fuck long he's been out there, and I want—"

"Rip, he's your brother," Malcolm spoke softly. "And he's ours."

Ripley worked herself up into a sitting position, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Charlie stared at the gauze wrapped around her thigh, and once more was reminded that she could have died. His thoughts were broken as the soft voice seemed eerily gentle. "Well, in case ye weren't clued in and what's happenin' Mal, yer darlin' brother happens to be a Death Eater, just thought ye'd like ta know that little tidbit. And just in case you didn't realize but we're Aurors, it could be your best friend, your lover, your father and guess what? You'd still have to _kill_ them!"

Kirby lifted a finger bringing a halt to Ripley's rant. The Auror's mouth snapped shut. "Jason." Rip scowled and jabbed her wand at the healer.

"Thank you." He mumbled.

"Kirby, am I set?" Ripley looked to the Healer who had always been at her side, through every injury she had ever acquired.

"Rip…" Kirby began to tell her that she would need another night, but she knew it was pointless. "Yeah, you can go." She gathered slaves and potions and slid them into a bag, held it out. "Potion once a night, and the salve whenever you change the dressing."

"Thanks Kirby," Ripley hugged her. "Where are my clothes?" She glanced down at her hospital gown. "Kirb?"

"Behind the dressing screen, they were cleaned and sewn for you."

"Appreciate it."

* * *

><p>Molly wrung her hands together in the kitchen of the Burrow. Arthur sat at the table his dinner untouched, his full attention on the Daily Prophet, and George fiddled with Eponine's paw as she lay on the bench with him, tail flickering. Hermione and Ginny were hushed in their conversation over bridal magazines. Finally the door opened. Molly breathed a sigh of relief as one after the other the Todd's marched in and finally Charlie with Ripley, muttering threats, behind him. "Are you all right?" Molly asked softly.<p>

"I'll live."

"She needs to sit," said Charlie, his scowl deep. "Don't let her tell you different." Ripley glared at him. And oddly enough didn't even argue. Molly glanced from one to the other and smiled warmly. "Well, then," She clapped her hands. "I believe I'll get dinner ready."

Ripley smiled with a little shake of her head. Molly always fixed awkward moments. She limped out of the room with Charlie on her heels. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." He helped her climb the stairs, a light hand on the small of her back. "Do you have the salve Kirby gave you?"

"Yes."

"Hard to believe after Hogwart's she became a healer."

"She failed Auror Training," said Ripley with a shrug. "She wasn't cut out for it."

"Is anyone?" He asked wonderingly.

"I am." She replied, scoffing.

"Yes, you certainly proved that today saying you'd kill your own brother," he opened her door for her. She stepped in turned, eyeballing him. "What?"

"You don't know what it's like," The voice that came out wasn't the Ripley who'd been fighting all day, it was the woman she trapped so well inside of her. "My baby brother is a Death Eater, he either gets captured or killed there's no other way. You just—you don't understand." She stepped using the door as a shield. "Ask Molly to wake me up when suppers ready." She closed the door between them and laid her forehead against the cold wood, and heard him whisper. "I don't understand because you won't open up to me."

The words stung, they got under her skin and wiggled into her heart. She couldn't open up, if she did she put him at risk, she put herself at risk. No, she wouldn't open up, she couldn't. He would understand that someday, for now though, for now she settled on her bed and dug out a photo album from the bedside table. She flipped it open to a family Christmas portrait. In the corner, arms crossed and scowl on his face was Thom. "I'll find you," She said softly. "And you will pay."


	7. Chapter 7

A storm raged over England, thunder roared and lightening struck, the rain fell in sheets of cold wet water. Wind howled and whipped through the trees, pulled at the capes of those who entered a large home in Pepperinge Eye. "Inside," A hushed voice demanded. "Quickly." He ducked inside following the five men. In a long room were ten Death Eaters seated at a table. Thomas Todd removed his cloak eyeing Lucius Malfoy with doubt. "You called the meeting Malfoy this best be worth it. There are Auror's everywhere."

"Yes we know," Lucius traced the top of his goblet with a long finger. "Your sister is proving herself to be quite the issue." He flicked his gaze to the wall contained pictures of every Auror that they knew of. Dead center was Ripley with her team and her brothers. "All of them are proving to be a challenge. How are we supposed to pick up the Dark Lord's work if they're in the way!" He slapped his hand on the table.

"I was going to-to—"

"Going to—to—to what you stuttering imbecile!" Lucius rose from his seat approaching the twenty-three year old. "Crucio her to death? Leave her hanging there?" He paced along the length of the room keeping the man in sight. "Ripley Ann Todd has been the bane of our existence since she left Hogwart's. How in the _hell_ did she get to be a good Auror, Thom?"

"I tried—"

"Not hard enough."

Thomas clenched his jaw, warring with the emotions within him, he could not and would not demean Lucius—oh, what the hell was he thinking? "Ye didn't kill her either Lucius." He shot back. "Ye've had yer chances." Here was the Irishman defending himself. Here was someone that his sister would have been proud of. "Ye had the opportune chance at Hogwarts, the best chance that anyone has ever had and you didn't do a damn thing."

"It's not my place," Lucius stroked a hand along the polished oak mantel. "You've always said you want to be the one to kill her, so I left her for you." He sat back down at the head of the table. "Sit down Thom."

"Who died and made ye king?" Thom asked dryly.

Lucius laughed sinisterly, enjoying the young man's sarcasm. "The Dark Lord is gone, Bellatrix is gone. No one else has offered to take the Lords place." He sipped from his goblet, letting the earthy red wine calm his nerves. "Now, that being said, Yaxley," His gaze turned to the dark skinned man on his left. He frowned. "Wasn't your eye patch on the right eye?"

"No, it's always been the left."

"Oh…well, the attack on Ireland's ministry?"

"We ambushed them," Yaxley twirled his wands between his fingers. "Till Todd's sister ambushed us."

"Excuse me," Lucius set his goblet down slowly. "Ambushed?" He asked sweetly.

"We were resting on the second level, that damned—" Yaxley took a breath, fighting for control. "She led an attack, hunted us down in the woods. Thom," His brown eyes flickered to the man, he inclined his chin. "Thom led her away, but we lost Erickson in the process."

"If she kills anymore of my men I am going to take it out on you Thomas," Lucius tapped his fingers against his mouth in thought. "Where is she now?"

"We don't know." Yaxley ansered.

"You don't know," Malfoy repeated slowly.

"We can find out." Thom offered.

"Oh, can you!" Lucius sang out sneering. "I never would have thought that." He rose. "Find her, and bring her down." He ordered then turned to Yaxley. For a moment he stared at the eye patch now resting over his right eye. "Did it—" He moved his finger across his face from one eye to the other. "Never mind." He left the dining room, muttering.

* * *

><p>She watched the drops roll down the window pane, the lightning lit the sky and thunder shook the house. Ripley sat, legs folded under her on the chaise by the bedroom window. In the background <em>Les Miserable's Stars<em> played. Eponine lay on the queen size bed, watching her mistress. Ripley tucked a stray hair behind her ear. The song was one of her favorites, at that moment it summed up everything perfectly. And spoke to her. _There, out in the darkness, a fugitive running fallen from god, fallen from grace. God be my witness I never shall yield. Till we come face to face, till we come face to face. He knows his way in the dark. Mine is the way of the Lord. And those who follow the path of the righteous shall have their reward and if they fall as Lucifer fell the flame, the sword!_

She stopped listening to the song as her brown eyes beheld the storm. He was out there. He was hiding. _As he should_, she thought bitterly. She had sworn on the bible itself years ago that she would find him. He wasn't a Todd anymore, he wasn't her brother. She clutched the cross around her neck, drawing her knees up to her chin, hugged them. He was just another Death Eater, just another mission. Another man on the run to be caught and held_. And so it has been and so it is written on the doorway to paradise. That those who falter and those who fall must pay the price!_

Charlie watched her from the open doorway as her lips moved with the song even as the tears ran down her. _Thomas Todd is not your brother,_ she assured herself in her mind. _He is not the toddler you taught to walk, not the little boy who had been bewitched with trains, he's the shining eyed boy who came to you with nightmares._ Ripley wiped a hand across her damp cheek and took a deep breath. She sang softly, the final refrain of the song. And held those words close to her_. "_Lord let me find him that I may see him safe behind bars. I will never rest till then this I swear, this I swear by the stars!" She sighed, shaking her head. Even if she found him, even if she had the chance again Mal and Ian would stop her. If Calder were alive, if he were there, he would support her. He always knew Thom was heading down the wrong path. They had discussed it so many times, and in the end it hadn't helped. Calder was killed by Thom. Thom remained alive. Her jaw clenched, she would fix that.

"Rip," said Charlie gently. She turned her head toward him. Her eyes were red from tears, her face held neither emotion nor welcome. "Can I come in?" She nodded. Doe eyes watched as he settled onto the bed, fluffed up a feather pillow and relaxed. He used to do the very same thing whenever he went into the common room at Hogwarts, she remembered it quite vividly, and the stinging pain that came with it. The pain of him never returning her feelings, of watching him walk away. Here he was, on her bed, his brawny arms tucked under his head, his steel blue eyes half closed. "You're staring." He said softly, grunting as Eponine began to knead his stomach to lie down.

"I'm entitled to it," She replied. "You used to stare at me in school." He laughed, nodding. "And you're not even trying to hide it."

"I stopped hiding things a long time ago Rip," he turned his head to look at her. With the exception of a few things, but she didn't need to know. "You never stopped. You never took the risk."

"If I stop I risk everything. Better to risk nothing and stay safe, then make a complete ass outta myself."

"'There are those who are so scrupulously afraid of doing wrong that they seldom venture to do anything.' D'ya know who said that?"

She quirked her brows at him. "No."

"Vauvenargues," He told her with a smirk. He was a bookworm at heart.

She snickered. "God bless you."

"It's a French writer," He shot back with a roll of his eyes. "You of all people should know that, considering what you called your cat."

"Caught onto that did ya?" Ripley stretched her long legs out, watched as the clouds cleared to show the stars.

"I asked Fleur." Charlie admitted, his eyes trailing Ripley as she rose to brush out her hair for the night.

Ripley turned the silver handed brush in her hand, tapped it against her palm. "She can read?"

The Weasley ignored the jab at his sister-in-law. "She said Eponine was one of the saddest characters in Les Miserable's, why'd you choose her?" He edged closer to the end of the bed, eyes on the polished oak locks that fell down her shoulders as she brushed them. She had always had such soft looking hair. He wondered if it felt the same as it had ten years ago.

" Eponine loved a man who never saw her," the Irishwoman said softly, the record magically changed to Frank Sinatra's _Send In The Clown's_, the song fit her mood, it was just as well. "She risked everything for him, gave her life for him, and admitted as she was dying that she had loved him, just a little bit. And still he had never seen her," She gazed into her own sorrowful brown eyes, hardly seeing Charlie staring at her with furrowed brows. "Still he didn't care. He chose Cossette. He never noticed Eponine, not even when she gave her life. It was always Cossette who had the pretty blond hair, blue eyes—" She shook her head, pulling herself out of the self-pitying stupor she had worked her way into. "Anyways, you said she was a shelter cat, figured that was how she felt."

"I have a feeling we're not talking about Les Miserable's, or the cat anymore Ripley." Charlie rose from the bed, rested his hands on her shoulders. "You haven't changed as much as you think." To please himself he laid his cheek against her hair and rubbed. "You're still the same Ripley Todd," He felt her tense and squeezed her shoulders, rested his chin on top of her head, met her eyes in the mirror. "The only thing that has changed is the scars you've gathered and the things you've seen." How had he known she had been feeling lost? She wondered. How had he known she had begun doubting everything? "You're still as stubborn as ever," He carried on. "Still brave, down-to-earth, witty, loyal…nothing has changed. You're still you."

_Still the girl you never saw as more than a friend._ Her mind snapped bitterly.

"And I'm still a stupid young boy," He admitted softly. "Waiting too long to realize—"

"Ripley!" Malcolm's voice was followed by her door flying open. "They've got a lock on Thom, Quebec, Canada." Without a word Ripley left the room, running down the stairs and flew out the door. Charlie didn't have a chance to say good-bye. He had the resounding 'pops' of all the Todd's leaving and sighed. "I love you, sorry I was an idiot." He finished. "Sorry you couldn't hear it."

* * *

><p>AN: Everything I've mentioned i.e. songs, names, lyrics etc is the property of their rightful owners.


	8. Chapter 8

Teine

Chapter 8

**RATED NC-17**

What had he been trying to say? Ripley pondered as her brothers tramped ahead of her through the forest. What had they even been talking about? Her brain was so fuzzy, so unclear. She shook it in a futile attempt to have it make sense. She would focus on the job and take care of Charlie later. "Mal, where is he?" She called ahead to her brother.

"Should be around the corner," Ian answered softly. He wasn't going to admit that his heart was racing, or that his palms were sweating. The adrenaline raced through his body as Mal held up a hand. His muscles tightened as Mal edged forward

"Mal," whispered Ripley. "Lemme go first." She brushed past Ian and stepped up beside the eldest Todd. He turned his head, gazed hard into her eyes. "Please."

"I'll go," Ian stepped forward.

"Well, if we're having a fucking coin-toss hurry up and do it." Wick stated bitterly.

"Ian will go," Mal decided after a moment's thought. "Thom always was tolerant of him."

"Ian's still hurt," Ripley fired back.

"I'll go." Ian pushed past them before Ripley could get a word in. They waited in silence, Ripley paced constantly whilst Wick, in a rather calm frame of mind, whittled a figure of a dolphin out of a hunk of wood he had picked up.

"Shouldn't take this long," Ripley muttered under her breath as she passed by Slov, then Wick. "It's much too long."

"It's been five minutes," Reminded Wick. "And he's still kinda hurt, so it makes sense." Ripley scowled at her second in command, but he merely shrugged his shoulders. Ripley was like the earth, she was strong and steadfast, but shook on occasion. Wick was there to steady her, the moon keeping her from drifting too far. They all froze the second a branch snapped. Wands were drawn, curses ready at their lips.

"He's not here," Ian tossed a rainbow scarf on the ground. "That's what we tracked."

"What?" Mal whispered.

"Run that by me one more time," Ripley said as she lifted the scarf off of the dead leaves.

"The tracker," Ian said slowly. "Tracked the scarf because the fucker bewitched it."

Ripley lifted her brow eyes to Mal's green. "Still think he's sweet and innocent?" She threw the scarf down on the ground. "Let's go home."

"Think he's trying to say something with the rainbow scarf?" Wick ventured as he slung an arm around Rip's shoulders. She let out a hoarse laugh and leaned into the hug, she took in a deep breath letting the scent peppermint and old spice fill her nose. It was Wick's scent, always. It never seemed to stop calming her.

* * *

><p>"They're back," Ginny raced into the kitchen from the backyard, her hoodie sleeves pulled down over her hands doing her best to prevent the chill. "They're okay." Charlie breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the Todd's and team tramped in.<p>

"Cold as a bitch in Canada," announced Wick cheerfully. Ripley said nothing as she dug a Harp out of the fridge and popped the cap off. "I think Thom may be gay, too."

"Excited for that one, aren't ya?" Slov shot back as he dug into the stoneware jar contained chocolate chip cookies. "Say Wick why is that?"

"If you're insinuating Wick's gay I can easily debunk that statement," Ripley piped in dryly. Charlie's brows furrowed together, a line forming between them. She avoided his gaze, keeping her eyes on her team. "Now, Slov I know you're pissed off about the slut leaving you, but don't take it out on Wick."

"She's not a slut." Slov snapped through a mouthful of cookie.

Wick scoffed and moved closer to his friend, a dour expression on his face. "Dude, she fucked your dad."

"Don't talk about my dad that way Wickwire!" Slov jabbed his finger into Wick's chest, green eyes flashing.

"I'm not, I'm talking 'bout your slut girlfriend." Wicked pushed Slov away from him; Charlie winced as Slov hit the counter, and leaped back with a shout.

"Don't talk about Peggy that way!"

"Slovak!" Ripley's bellow silenced the kitchen and the small skirmish. "Walk it off."

The Russian scowled at her. "But…"

"Walk." She snapped. Charlie watched the stare down happen. On a sigh it was Slov who turned away and walked through the open door. It shut behind him with a loud snap. "Wick, upstairs."

"Rip, I got stuff—"

"Upstairs, I won't be askin' twice boy-o." Ripley set aside her beer as Wick, head hung low, ascended the stairs. Her brow eyes shifted to her brothers, their team, and the one member of hers that she hadn't yelled at. "Stevie, go on up to bed, it's late."

"Whatever ya say Todders," The Welshman replied with a shrug, his light blue eyes locked on hers. "I love ya Rip," he pressed his lips against her temple.

"Love you more." She said over her shoulder as he walked toward the stairs.

Flea turned his head with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. "Love you most." He inclined his chin as he said this and then left. Malcolm watched his sister with wary hazel eyes. It wasn't an easy task to cope with Ripley on a daily basis, harder yet when she wanted to murder your own brother. "I think," the soft lilt of his country filled his ears in the form of her alto voice. "We need to call a family meeting."

"When?" Ian asked, burly arms crossed across his chest.

"Sunday." Mal stated.

"Time?" Asked Ripley, brows raised in question.

"One o'clock." Molly spoke now. "The Order will attend as well." She laced her fingers together in front of her and surveyed the family. "I don't pretend to know what it's like to have to kill a family member," Her brown eyes went from the eldest Todd to the youngest. "But I have lost them. I have seen them injured, I have seen them die." Her voice thickened with emotion and she stopped herself. Ripley lowered her head to stare at her jean clad knees. "I do know one thing for certain." The coldness in her tone had the siblings sharing a sidelong glance. "Thomas Todd is a Death Eater. It was Death Eater's that killed my boy. And the three of you took oaths, I expect you to follow them or retire." She hung up the tea towel that had been hanging from her hands and departed.

"Yer moms amazin'," Ian told Charlie with a grin. "I mean holy shit."

The Dragon keeper grinned wryly. "You're lucky she wasn't on a full on tirade." He watched Ripley leave the room, brows together in thought. "Where's she going?"

"Who knows?" Mal shrugged.

"Masturbation." George stated from the cupboard.

"Have you been in there the entire time?" Charlie asked with a laugh.

"Uh, yeah."

"You're impossible."

* * *

><p><em>There had been a jig. He dreamed it so clearly he swore it was happening right then. Bill and Fleur had been dancing, surrounded by friends and family clapping the time. She had seen him, and oh how gorgeous she had looked. She had chosen emerald green for her dress that night with a swinging skirt. His raised his hands clapping in time as she let out a holler for Bill to kiss his new bride. Then she swept off into a jig with Malcolm, whirling around the new couple with wild abandon, her brunette locks in loose curls spearing out as she twirled. With every ounce of courage he possessed he cut into the dance, wrapping his arms around her. She grinned up at him brown eyes sparkling. He leaned his forehead against hers. "I've missed you."<em>

_ "Aye, as you should have." She replied cockily, rubbing her body against his.  
><em>

_ "Glad you could make it." _

_ "Oh?" Even as her flirtatious smile began he felt her back stiffen beneath his hands. There were gasps and screams as a ball of light flew in. She stepped back, her hands clenched on his forearms. Kingsley Shacklebolts voice filled the hushed tent. __**The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead. They are coming. They are coming. **__There was a flurry of movement and then the first Death Eater arrived. Charlie pushed Ripley behind him as more arrived. "Go! Get out of here!" He turned to herd her away. _

_ She gripped the lapels of his tuxedos jacket, brown eyes filled with fear gave every emotion in her away. "Not without you!"_

_ He crushed his lips hard against hers, breathing in the scent of jasmine and strawberries one last time. "They don't want me Rip now go!" He shoved her away, heard her shout spells, heard her cry as a Death Eater grabbed onto her. _

_ "We've got a Todd here boys!" The Death Eater's shout was followed by a crack. Charlie turned to see the white shadow and black mist spiraling out of the tent. It was the last thing he saw before he was struck from the side. _

Charlie tossed onto his side, eyes open now. He jolted at the figure in the armchair. "Rip?" He sat up the sheets falling to his waist.

"Whoa, hey," She held up her hands as he went to drag the sheets off of his lap. "I don't need to see the dragon." He rolled his eyes and flipped the blankets back to reveal that he was in boxer briefs. "Fair enough."

"Thought so."

"You were talking in your sleep," Ripley drew her pajama clad knees up to her chin, surveyed him. "You were yelling at me to go."

"Was I?"

"It was Bill's wedding wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Charlie glanced at his watch. It was just after four. He had gone to bed two hours before. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Couldn't." She shrugged her bared shoulders the strap of her tank top sliding to the side. He patted the empty spot beside him on the queen sized bed. Swallowing her pride Ripley crawled over his legs and snuggled underneath the covers. She laid her head down on his shoulder, and smiled softly as his arm came around her to rest lightly on her ribcage. "Why'd you tell me to leave?"

"They would have taken you," he replied eyes shut, trying to ignore the smell that had been in his dream. "I didn't want that to happen."

She didn't have the heart to tell him they had found her anyways. Instead she said, "Even though the last time we'd seen each other we argued?"

"Yep." He rubbed his cheek across her hair. "Because I know how stubborn you are."

"How do ye know that?"

"Because I know you," Charlie whispered. She tipped her head up, gazing into his eyes. "Because I have always been there." She smiled, stroked a hand down his cheek. "No matter what you think Ripley, I have and always will be here for you." With a small intake of breath she crushed her lips against his. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut against the need that flooded his system. He shifted, drew her into his arms. She let out a soft whimper against his mouth. He pulled back. "You're alright."

"Shut up and kiss me." Ripley demanded with a warm smile. He obliged and was more than happy to do so. Ripley lost herself into the kiss, into the familiar lips that she had once loved. Tongues joined in a sensual dance. Her soft hands ran down his chest marred in places with scars. He groaned against her mouth, his hands, so sure of themselves, dragged the pajama pants down long sleek legs. He drew his mouth away, and smiled. She lay beneath him, cheeks flushed with color, lips swollen from his kisses. Her hair, which had grown longer since she arrived, was spread over the pillow. "Look at you," he whispered with a smile. She opened her eyes a little. He was talking to himself she realized. His broad hand ran down the valley between her breasts, passed over scars, and fading bruises, traced along the edge of her panties and back up between the valley.

"You have tattoos." He whispered bemusedly. "Here," he traced a finger along the shield on her bicep. She watched him quietly, shifting to accommodate his search. "Here," his finger found the Claddagh on her shoulder with a phoenix etched in the heart. "Here," between her shoulder blades where the butterfly rested with its circle of words. "Just when she thought the world was over the caterpillar turned into a butterfly." Charlie read the quote aloud, pressing a soft kiss to the wings. He turned her onto her back, brushed the fringe of hair from her eyes. He grasped the edge of her tank top and drew it up and over her head. With a flick of his wrist it was on the armchair she had occupied. His blue eyes roved over her body, clear of sheets, one measly piece of cloth left. She had slimmed from when he had last seen her naked. She had kept the curves, he found as he ran his hands down her sides, feeling her shiver in anticipation.

Slowly his fingers slipped under the band of the blue panties she was wearing. His heart raced when he realized she was as bare down there as her legs were. "That's new," he whispered huskily. She flushed beneath his heated gaze. "I like it." He dropped his head to press a kiss to each breast. His fingers curled and slowly, tauntingly pulled the panties down. "I won't hurt you."

She squeezed her eyes shut, felt the fist of fear squeeze her heart. "Don't make promises ya can't keep," she said softly. He gazed into her eyes, hurt. "Just don't Charlie."

"I won't do it again love," his lips found hers, soothing, comforting. She moaned as his fingers slipped between her wet folds. His thumb circled her clit lightly. His hands were harder than they had been and God in Heaven above did she love it! He slipped once finger into her, moving it to and fro. She almost purred at the feel of it. "Was there anyone else?" He whispered into her ear, snagged her earlobe between his teeth.

"Not like you," she murmured. No one else had stolen her heart. He added a second finger and heard her cry of delight.

"You're still tight," his lips grazed her jaw. "Much more vocal." He nipped at her neck. She laughed lustily at the comment. She dug her fingers into his head and brought his lips to hers, leading the dance. Her hands collided with his at the waistband of his boxers. They were gone in a second, and there he was, poised at the brink of absolute pleasure. "Do you want this?" He asked gruffly. She nodded. "Say it!" He nipped her breast. She cried out. "Yes!" She whimpered. "God yes." There was no easing it in, Charlie went headfirst into the thrust and felt the long limbs of Ripley Todd wrap around him as she had ten years ago.

She met him thrust for thrust, with his fingers aiding him, his mouth on her throat, her breasts, anywhere he could reach. Ripley moaned his name, whimpered for him to not stop. How long had she longed for this? How long had he waited? How many times had he dreamed of her in Romania? Charlie cupped his hands around her shoulders, thrusting harder and faster. Her breath hitched, rose with soft grunts. He felt her tense, and didn't lessen the pace. "Ma doue!" He heard her gasp in the native tongue of her land and gave a final thrust as he came inside of her. Chests slick with sweat they lay together, tangled up in one another as the sun began to ascend. She quivered as he withdrew. Holding tight to her he drew the blankets up with one hand.

"Good night?" She asked softly, her smile as smug as a cat who had downed a bucket of cream.

"Good morning." He replied with a kiss. "Get a few hours of sleep Rip, you need it."

"Maybe I do." She said and turned on her side, away from him. He frowned. She was shielding herself. Well, that just wouldn't do. He tucked an arm around her, and snuggled into the curve of her back. He missed the single tear that slipped from her eye at the gesture. She closed her eyes with a heavy heart. She didn't want to lose the good feeling she had. She had forgotten what it was like to sleep with someone. Charlie nuzzled into the curvature of her neck and let out a content sigh. It would be a better day.


	9. Chapter 9

Teine

Chapter 9

I gotta get to you cause you sure been gettin' to me  
>Gotta find a way to get to your heart to sweep you off your feet<br>I'll wrap you up, in my love, cover you with kisses so sweet  
>I gotta get to you cause you sure been gettin' to me<p>

I'll win you over, over and over again  
>I'm gettin closer, closer than I ever been<br>(C) George Strait

It hadn't surprised him when he had woken up in her bed completely alone except for the cat. Charlie glanced at the clock and scowled. He had fallen asleep maybe two hours ago. With a heavy, resigned sigh he flipped the covers back donning his boxers that had landed on the armchair the night before. He nudged Eponine out-of-the-way with the side of his foot as he exited the room, and headed for the bathroom. Freshly scrubbed he headed downstairs and straight into the lions den.

"Wanna tell me why you were leaving my baby sisters room?" Mal spoke from the head of the table, the Daily Prophet laid out in front of him. His eyes flickered to Charlie's and held.

Ian's head popped up from the file he had been reading through. "Excuse me?"

"She tamed your dragon?" George asked gleefully. He dodged the scone Mal threw at his head.

"Enough," Ripley breezed into the room, hair flowing behind her like a sail as she dropped her pile of folders onto the table. "Anyone who is not an Auror can get the hell out." Ian waggled his brows at her and let out a small cat yowl whilst scratching the air. Charlie glanced over, tried to catch her gaze, but it wasn't happening. With a sigh he and George departed in twin manners of depression. Ripley settled down into a chair.

"Did ye fuck him?" Ian asked, leaning forward, eyes full of glee.

"Jesus Christ Ian!" Ripley shouted as she slapped her hand on the table. "Can ye not act like a complete imbecile for one second?"

"That'll be the day," Mal muttered.

"Oh fuck you Malcolm," the younger Todd leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "I just want ta make sure that the wee lass isn't preggers."

"I'm not pregnant, nor have I ever been pregnant, and I don't plan to be anytime soon!" Ripley snapped back, cheeks flushed pink with anger.

"So ya do plan on having kids?" Mal hooted, grinning widely. "I'm sure that Molly would be glad to have a grandkid."

"Why you little—" Ripley launched herself at her brother, cursed violently when he avoided her attack and brought her face first to the floor.

"Say yer sorry, love." Mal ordered as he tugged her arms firmly behind her back. She yelped and writhed beneath him.

"Not on yer life!"

"I'd say it Rip, he looks like he's serious!" Ian laughed so hard his eyes were running. Molly stood in the doorway her arms crossed, foot tapping. "Fuck him up Rippy!"

"Ian Todd!" Molly snapped. The youngest Todd dropped his head to the table, wince still on his face. Ripley stopped, her arm raised to throw a punch. She sent Molly a sheepish grin as Mal climbed off of her and helped her to her feet. "The meeting is tomorrow I expect you people to behave."

"People?" Mal grinned at her. "You people, that's love." Molly glowered at him. Ripley snickered, but quickly covered it with a cough so as to save her own butt.

"Oh, Ripley, would you like to explain this?" Molly held up the newspaper in her hand. A description for a two bedroom cottage in Hogsmeade was circled. "I thought you were going back to Ireland."

Cheeks flushed the Auror scuffed the toe of her shoe on the floor. "It's more convenient to be here."

"Easier to get laid, too, eh?" Mal teased.

"Are ya really gonna start this again?" asked Ian irritably.

"And who would she—" Molly dropped off midsentence as Ripley's cheeks burned red. "Oh…well, my, my." She glanced down at the paper in her hand, then at Ripley. "Well, um, I've got errands to run." The woman departed swiftly from the room. Mal and Ian burst into laughter as Ripley sank into a chair, head buried in her hands. "I want to fucking kill ye both."

Charlie waited patiently, or as patiently as one could when the woman he had slept with had gathered her brothers for a meeting then told his mother, his own mother, to have first aid supplies ready when they got back. He worried his thumbnail as he paced the kitchen. Molly sat peacefully at the scarred kitchen table, flipping through a cookbook while her knitting needles clicked softly behind her. Eponine lay in a patch of sunshine, her multicolored tail flicking lazily. He hated them for being so calm. How could they be so calm? Whenever the Todd's left they always seemed to come back with new scars and new stories to tell.

"Charlie," Molly spoke softly from her spot. "Charlie, she'll be fine, she always is."

"And what if she isn't this time?" Snapped Charlie. "What if she doesn't come back a'tall?"

"You may want to try not to sound so in love with her, dear one," George quipped dryly from the doorway, a cup of tea in his hand.

"Oh shut up you lousy git!" Charlie began to advance on his brother, aching for a fight.

"Boys!" Molly snapped. Her two sons stopped midstride. "Separate."

"Mum!" Charlie started to complain, but the multiple 'pops' had him distracted in an instant.

"…Seriously, how did ya do that?" He heard Mal's voice first, loud with adrenaline then Ripley's warm laugh. "Teach me."

"No," Ripley replied, she dreaded the idea of her brother knowing as many fight moves as she did. "Y'know why?"

"No, why?"

"Ye never go to the trainings where we learn that shit."

"Now you're just being cruel," teased Mal with a wicked grin. "Suppose you could teach me if I provoke you…"

"Do you plan on dying?" Asked Charlie dryly. Ripley shot him a quick grin. The man relaxed, it seemed they were fine. Then again they hadn't been awkward the morning after the bout at Hogwarts that amounted in the same thing. No awkwardness, but then there hadn't been anything else, and that, he admitted freely, had been his fault. His gaze followed Ripley to where the table where first aid supplies were spread out. It was then he saw the blood. "Are you hurt?" He started forward, and stopped abruptly as she turned dark eyes onto him. She dabbed at the wound on her cheekbone, then shrugged and scrubbed away dried blood.

In the silence o the kitchen the clock seemed louder than usual, and then the soft hum of 'here comes the bride' from George's direction. Charlie growled and launched onto his brother, they cursed as they hit the floor and began rolling. Ripley rolled her eyes and departed from the room. "You love her! You love her!" George chanted over and over again. "You want to marry her, you want to fuck her, have kids and die with her!"

"Shut up you git!" Charlie lifted his fist to deliver a blow to the ribs, but Mal caught it firmly in his hand.

"That's enough Charlie," The Auror said softly. "Let 'im go and see to Rip." Calm eyes watched the man depart the room and flicked down to the other Weasley. "That was a good one."

"Thanks mate." George grinned and took the proffered hand to stand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

He found her sitting beneath an oak tree in the backyard. The trees, hell the forest, itself was still new to him. The forest had been created as a barrier, designed and executed by the Todd family both near and far. It had been a gift, it had been a precaution given to them by Ripley. He had been so stupid not to have seen how much she cared for the Weasley family. At the sound of his noisy approach she glanced up from her small mountain of dirt she had been making and scowled. "What?"

"You could try not being a bitch Rip, it may help you out someday," Said Charlie easily as he took a seat beside her.

She moved away from him. "Fuck you Charlie."

"I believe you already have, my dear."

"Don't call me your dear, and _don't_ bring that up," the Auror rose, brushed the seat of her pants off as she stormed toward the Burrow.

"And here I thought I did pretty well for it being awhile," Charlie jogged after her. "I mean honestly it has been quite a long time."

"Look I don't need to know this, okay? It was a one night thing."

Charlie grabbed her arm, held her in place with a firm grip. His hazel eyes bored into brown. "Was that really all it was?" He asked softly. Ripley dropped her head and tried to fight the hand that lifted her chin. "Rip, look at me, for once tell me the truth."

"That's all it can be," she replied ignoring the crack in her voice. She pulled away and began to walk swiftly toward the house.

"Why?" Again the dragon keeper gave chase.

"Because it's easier Charlie!" Ripley whirled around, and threw in a stomp with her foot. "Because I don't want to lose you if something happens!"

"Like what? Voldemort's dead!"

"But his followers are not, don't you get that? As long as Death Eaters walk around free there's a risk."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take." Charlie grabbed her hands and tried to contain the woman who wanted so desperately to run.

"Well I'm not."

"Give me five good reasons why I'm not good enough."

"It has nothing to do with you not being good enough, believe me you're just—you're fucking perfect!" Ripley lifted her hands and let them drop to her side. "You're everything that's sane in this world Charlie."

"So keep that sanity, don't block me out, don't push me away!"

"I have to!"

"You're so goddamn pigheaded; Merlin himself would've given up on you!" The Weasley stared hard at the girl in front of him. Somehow that was how he saw her right then, a girl, not the woman she had grown to be, a scared little girl. From inside the Burrow, by the open window Molly, Ginny and Hermione listened intently to the argument that was carried on the wind.

Ripley let out a scornful laugh. "Well, Christ, sorry that you didn't make the move at Hogwarts!"

"Sorry that you ran the fuck off right after Hogwarts!" It was few and far between when Charlie swore. All it did was spark Ripley's anger.

"Oh go to Hell!" She began to storm away.

Charlie growled under his breath and stomped after her, arms in the air in frustration. "That's mature Rip, real mature."

She spun around, ran her fingers irately through her hair. "What do ya want me to say?! Sorry we slept together our seventh year, sorry that you chose your goddamn reptiles over a future with me!?"

"Like you would've offered me a future! You were so hung up on being an Auror you were completely oblivious—"

"I was oblivious? Are you serious?" Her voice rose and cracked at the same time. "I would have given you _everything_!"

"So why not now?" He challenged softly.

"Because now is not good for me, maybe another—" She broke off as his lips met hers, his hands framed her face and held her to him. She felt her heart crack, and soften. This was Charlie, the man she had loved since sixteen, the man who had always been there. Her lips parted, warm and inviting to him. He dove, and swam into the warm, heady kiss.

"Well," She whispered softly. "That was, um, very nice and pleasurable—" She was cut off as he kissed her again, the utter force behind it mind boggling.

"Don't argue with me," Charlie muttered. "I will win, and I will have you."

"Rip!" Mal's shout brought the Auror's attention away for the time being. "Dad's here."

"Fuck me running," the woman muttered darkly. "This day just keeps getting better."

0-0-0

Zachary Todd was a tall, sturdy man, half Irish and half Welsh which accounted for the mix of height and build. He cut his grey hair brutally short and had a no nonsense attitude, and this meeting was indeed nonsense. He surveyed his children with steady blue eyes. The oldest Malcolm sat at the head of the table, proud and brave, then Ripley, his gaze passed over her without a thought, Ian the middle child, youthful still and full of spunk and that was all. Zach knew Thom had never fit in with those three or with Calder before his death. And now, now here his daughter sat and accused his youngest, his pride and joy of being a Death Eater.

Ripley sat quietly, though her right leg bounced up and down as such a pace that the table shook with each movement. Mal put a gentle hand on her knee to stop the action. She shot him a look, but settled. "So," Zach spoke slowly. "You brought me here from Ireland to tell me that Thom is a Death Eater?"

"Yeah," said Malcolm darkly. "That's exactly it." He had been prepared for yelling, for cursing, not for the gut busting laughter that his father had fallen into.

"That's a load of bollocks." Zach wiped away his tears of mirth.

"You would say that," Ripley said peacefully from Mal's right. Zach's gaze landed on his one and only daughter and narrowed at her icy look. "We've provided you with proof…"

"False."

"Told you," Ripley said to her brothers and rose. "He's got no backbone anymore, spineless like his son." Mal hauled her back into her seat.

"I will not have you besmirch my son's good name!" Zach snarled.

"Your son has tried to kill every person at this table!" Ripley slapped her palm against the wood as she rose once more. "He is a Death Eater, you've seen the files, you've heard the stories, get it through your head!"

"You will not raise your voice to me Ripley Anne Todd." The sudden silence after Zach's statement thickened the air with tension. "You will not go after my son."

"Watch me." She whispered viciously and walked out. Zach stormed after her and caught the long legged woman outside.

"You will not go after him."

Ripley whirled on him, blind to her brothers, to Charlie and the rest. "I will go after him, and I will bring him down." She swore, chocolate eyes glinting dangerously. "I have not come this far to have my own father defend a Death Eater."

"He is my child!"

"So am I!" Ripley slapped her hands against her chest, her voice broke. "I'm as much yours as he is. Have ye forgotten that?"

Zach's jaw clenched, his fists bunched. "Calm down. Your temper has always been your biggest fault." He heard Charlie's intake of breath, but knew what he was doing. "It's always your weakness."

"My only weakness is not having killed Thom when I had the chance, when he murdered your own son!" Ripley snarled. Zach stepped back from her, eyes wide. "Oh aye, didn't mention that did he?" The Irishwoman moved forward, circled her father. "He never mentioned he was there that night when Calder fell. Didn't mention that it was his curse that hit him."

"Lies."

"Malcolm and Ian were there." She gestured to her brothers who stood side by side, identical in stance. Zach looked toward them, saw the nods. He shook his head in disbelief. He was still shaking his head when he disapparated. Ripley, still quivering with rage, stared at the spot he had stood.

"Rip," Mal walked over, cautiously. She slid her gaze over to him. "Good?"

"Yeah," she expelled the breath she had been holding. "Yeah, I'm good."

"C'mere," Mal opened his arms. Charlie watched, with a sharp pang, as she let herself be comforted.


End file.
